


Parchment

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: I know I KNOW, M/M, Stupid boyfriends, adorable boyfriends, and an english minor, and inappropriate boyfriends (reiner and bert), bookshop au, dont look at me like that ok, jean isnt 'no homo' for once, jeans an art major, marco is a DANCER too, marcos in theatre ok, or bookstore au, pointless aimless fluff, very intimidating for young kirschtein, whatever you wanna call it, yet another college au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1355938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco works at a bookshop in downtown Maria, where he gets caught up in the life of Jean Kirschtein, pro-artist and secret book nerd. Suddenly college life becomes a hell of a lot more complicated in that Marco's actually getting a social life.</p><p>And as much as he sometimes wishes he had that simplicity, that routine he once had, Marco isn't exactly regretful either, because it's hard to be regretful when you're being dragged around by someone who might possibly be the man of your dreams, and Jean's pulling him into his life with full strength.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parchment

**Author's Note:**

> Intro. Longer chapter next time, I promise ;A;

He entered the book store at first each Thursday, at two in the afternoon exactly.

Marco was just working part-time to satisfy the expenses and luxuries college threw nearly mercilessly in his face. The bookstore was a fantastical sort of little tucked-away store, crowded with traditional wooden shelving and stacks of books. It was by no means a specialist store, but rather a store of quality books and passionate readers.

 Marco regarded himself as an extrovert. A shy, quiet one, but radiating with confidence, he drew his boundless energy from those around him. He took comfort in the customers; regulars or curious window shoppers alike. He remembered their names, and was often even tipped; rare for a local store in downtown Maria.

Nonetheless, none struck him like the college kid who came in each week with a coffee in hand.

This boy- man? was distinctive in his absolute nonchalance; he appeared to have total apathy to his surroundings apart from the days he came in, coffee replaced with a stormy scowl. It wasn't that he usually looked happy and cheerful, but rather that he had multiple levels of grumpiness. This had totally and completely prevented Marco taking any action when the other would sit at the back of the store, often leaning against a bookshelf or in one of the seats, hidden from the outside world.

Had Marco not been taught to pay attention to the entry and exit of customers, he wouldn't have realized that "he" was there at all. He always sat out of view from passerby's and the register where Marco was stationed, the solitary worker on his Thursday shift. When Marco finally worked up the gut to say something, it was a rainy September afternoon. 

Not that the weather stood out to Marco extraordinarily, but more because no customers had come in- since "him"- and it was pouring so heavily, hardly anyone could be seen on the streets.

It wasn't long before Marco heard the ominous rumbles and growls from the sky, and flashes of lightning illuminated his face beyond the dimming lights of the bookstore. 

Marco was bored; he was bored and had already completed any tidy-ups or reorganizing that the store needed, tasks he would usually procrastinate in shame. He had taken the extra precaution of walking by the damp figure at the back of the store, peeking at him as subtly as he could, afraid of being noticed by the other, who was reading a book- some classic, most likely. The kid seemed to have an infatuation with the classic novels, always reading Oscar Wilde or Dickens, often delving into Mary Shelly or Stephen King (admittedly not a classic author) on what seemed to be his grumpier days. Marco was slowly sorting through the biographies, edging along the shelves until he was side-eyeing his customer, hunched over his- _the store's_ novel _,_ Marco reminded himself.

The kid looked up, hair ruffled from resting his head on his hand, and glared at Marco. Right into his soul it felt, but that very well may have been because even as a kid, Marco was awful at eye contact.

He sighed, resting the book on his lap- worn jeans, the hems scruffy in a stylish manner. Well worn, that's what they were.

"I suppose you're gonna tell me this isn't a library, huh?"

Marco was transfixed by the sudden communication combined with his voice itself- smooth but grouchy and just how Marco had assumed it to be. Not that he had been particularly assuming of anything, but, well... 

Oh shit, Marco was meant to say something. _Stupid, stupid- c'mon wake yourself up!!_

"U-Uh no, not really!...." 

They stared at each other.

A few seconds dragged on, and Marco's face was growing heated with embarrassing awkwardness. Not that Marco was an unconfident person; he had the ability to stand up for himself and speak his mind when necessary, but one-on-one with some stranger his own age, Marco found himself at a loss for words, the situation so unusual and completely uncovered in the training of a retail employee. The guy wasn't stealing or shoplifting or even damaging the books; Marco had noted the care he took with each separate book, using his own bookmarks and being careful to break in each book before he read it. 

"So, do you need help with anything?"

Not the most impressive thing to say, but it was a start. Marco was met with an eyebrow finely raised in complete and genuine confusion.

"What?"

_Real eloquent guy for the amount of reading he does._

The kid, whatever his name was, continued.

"I've been coming here for weeks. If I needed help, I would've asked for it a long time ago."

Marco detected a hint of hostility, like a wild creature disturbed in its sleep. He walked a few paces back without really meaning to.

"Why?" 

The word tumbled from Marco's mouth, completely unintentionally, although the single word had been on his mind an awful lot lately. 

There was yet another long pause, and more words spilt from Marco's mouth, the air drawing thinner and cooler, all focus on the hoodie clad stranger. 

"Why do you always come in? Why don't you ever just buy the damn book? I get it if you can't afford it b-" 

"No space on my bookshelf." 

The other interrupted Marco coolly, his hand picking up his book, and there was something that was pissing Marco off, but he just didn't know what it was and besides, Marco didn't get want to pick a fight, especially with a loyal customer. 

"I've got literally stacks of books in my dorm, and my roommate said if I bring one more book home, he'll kick my ass. It's coming from a scrawny kid, but I gotta give him some space at least."

Marco blinked a few times, cooling off, struck by the casual tone. He was aware he looked something like a fish in shock, but in his surprise, he couldn't control it. Marco racked his brain, painfully aware of his own silence. 

"That's fine, I guess," He finally formed a few simple words.

"You're surprisingly cool with all this. I'm kinda getting a bit suspicious to be honest," The other returned.

"I guess I don't really care. I mean, you aren't hurting anyone or anything, so..."

For the first time, Marco saw the stranger smile. It wasn't overly noticeable, more a slight lift in the corners of his lips, but it was a smile nonetheless, and Marco couldn't help but wish his customer smiled more.

"So, Freckles."

Marco looked back to the other's eyes, giving a tilt of his head to show response. 'Freckles' was something he'd been nicknamed for the 19 years of his life, and he responded to it as quickly and unquestionably as he did to 'Marco'. Admittedly, it hadn't always been used as a friendly nickname, but still.

He shut his book, sliding it carefully into the shelf.

"You wouldn't know anything about English analysis?" he asked, standing up and checking his phone- an older iPhone, with a noticeable dent in the back, checking for the time, presumably.

"It's one of my better subjects," Marco admitted.

The other cracked a smile, not out of amusement, but rather out of what seemed to be total relief.

"I gotta run, but can I meet you here on Sunday? I've a paper due first thing Monday, and I could use some help,"

Marco nodded slowly, about to ask what time, even though, hell, Marco didn't work Sundays.

"Awesome. Meet you here at three, then?" He started to walk towards the door, walking backwards in a way that should've looked ridiculous but somehow didn't. Marco followed him, stopping at the register.

"You sure you don't mind?" The other stopped at the door, fingers poised, ready to twist the handle.

"No, not at all. I mean, I don't usually make plans to help total strangers study, but I guess you are a loyal customer, so..." Marco replied.

"Thanks a shit-ton, Marco. I'm Jean by the way- see you Sunday?"

Marco managed a nod before the door slammed shut, and he watched Jean ( _Jean!_ ) almost power-walking down the street. Looking up at the clock, a sturdy mahogany-framed antique, Marco realized Jean had stayed ten minutes later than usual, and Armin would be taking over his shift any time soon.

Marco sighed, sitting down and staring out at the streaks of water racing down the window panes, wondering how on earth Jean knew his name; judging by the cheesy 'College Trost' hoodie Jean was wearing, they went to the same college, but Marco would have noticed if they were in the same classes, and Marco was hardly notorious amongst his peers.

It took him a while before he stared down at his name tag, neatly printed with ' _Marco Bodt'_ , and by then Marco was back in his dorm, laying with his back to a uncomfortable bed, staring at the ceiling.

He lay there for a while, wondering how he'd sit through all his classes until Sunday.

**Author's Note:**

> Update: This will be postponed, in favor of a different fanfic.


End file.
